


OzGlyn: A Shoulder to Cry On

by CarlottaStudios



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, actually it's more like past Glynda x Ironwood, angry exes situation, one side Glynda x Ironwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2020-07-12 12:50:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19946461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarlottaStudios/pseuds/CarlottaStudios
Summary: After the man she thought loved broke her heart, Glynda found herself on the roof of the dorm, crying and in need of comfort. Comfort which her best friend and partner, Ozpin, was happy to provide.





	OzGlyn: A Shoulder to Cry On

Glynda sat on the rooftop above her team’s dorm, staring out at the sunrise. Although the memory still made her chest ache and her eyes sting, she couldn’t keep herself from thinking on the events of the previous night.

…

“I…I don’t understand.” she said, her voice sounding almost weak from the weight of her shock.

She stared at James, searching his face for some trick, some giveaway that he wasn’t serious. But her boyfriend’s gaze didn’t lose a hint of its steeliness.

“There’s nothing to understand, Glynda.” he repeated. “I’m returning to Atlas, for good, and I’m not coming back.”

“You’re leaving me.” she still sounded disbelieving.

James Ironwood’s cold blue eyes appeared to soften, or perhaps it was Glynda’s imagination playing tricks on her.

“Yes,” he said, that one word tinged what seemed to be regret.

“But why?” Glynda asked. “That’s what I don’t understand, James.”

His jaw tightened and his eyes hardened again.

“I have to stay loyal to my kingdom.” he explained sternly, as if that alone was reason enough.

Glynda frowned, angrily ignoring the slight burning of already-approaching tears.

“How does your being with me mean you’re not loyal to your kingdom? People fall in love with and build relationships with those outside their kingdom all the time-”

“You don’t understand!” James snapped.

Glynda flinched. His tone was as sharp as a blade, but he didn’t seem to even notice as he ranted, his voice growing louder and angrier with each word:

“You have no idea how hard things have been for me! Ever since we got together! And it’s just not worth it anymore! It’s not worth it for me to stay with you, even if you are from the most respected family in Vale!”

As he spoke those words, Glynda froze, as if she’d been physically struck.

…

She didn’t want to think about what had happened next, though she remembered every bit of it clearly. She remembered feeling like all the breath had been knocked out of her, like she’d been stabbed and left bleeding. She remembered yelling, screaming, roaring at him in pure, concentrated anger. And the anger was still there, several long hours later. But Glynda was too spent to really feel it. Instead she felt blindsided, betrayed and used. James had said it wasn’t worth staying with her, despite her family’s respect. As if her family was all that mattered to him, were the only thing about her that he cared for, was the only reason he’d wanted to be with her in the first place.

Just thinking that made her want to be sick. To be sick and then just lie down and cry. Her whole life, it felt like Glynda had been fighting to get out from beneath the shadow of her family. For as long as she could remember, people had seen her family as a reason to scorn her. Because she was a Goodwitch, they thought of her like they thought of all Goodwitchs: upper-class snobs who looked down on everyone because their ancestors had been nobility and who complained nonstop about that loss in their status. And Glynda had worked so hard to distance herself from that reputation, to earn other’s respect and to prove that she was worth more than her disliked family.

As such, it never occurred to her that someone might view said family as something to take advantage of. And somehow, that hurt a thousand times worse than even the harshest insults people had flung at her because of her family name. It was so much more painful because she’d loved James Ironwood. Or thought she did. At the very least, she’d cared about him, and thought he’d cared about her.

But he hadn’t. He hadn’t even cared about her family’s prestige enough to try to keep a hold of it. And if that prestige and status hadn’t been worth it to him, what was she, herself, Glynda, worth? The answer was obvious, and it brought fresh tears burning to her eyes: to James Ironwood, she was nothing.

Behind her, the door to the roof opened, but Glynda didn’t look to see who it was that stepped out. Until she heard Ozpin’s voice, soft and filled with concern:

“Glynda?”

She turned toward him, and seeing him, inexplicably, made her chest hurt, her vision brim over with wetness and a lump rise in her throat, so much that when she tried to greet him, she couldn’t make a sound. All that came out was a shuddering gasp, the prelude to a sob, which she cut off abruptly. Ozpin’s amber eyes were wide. He’d never seen her in such a state. Within a moment, he was sitting beside her, his face deeply set with worry. He gently put an arm around her and suddenly in was just too much. Glynda began to cry. She leaned her head into Ozpin’s shoulder and wept into him. She tried to bite her lip to quiet herself, maybe stem the flood of tears even as it ran, but Ozpin’s soothing voice implored:

“Just let it out, Glynda. Let it out. You’ll feel better, I promise.”

His arms closed protectively around her, and Glynda let the tears flow, uninhibited, and sobbed freely. And as the storm of her grief blew through her, Ozpin hugged her close, letting her shed her tears onto his shoulder, and, when her wails had turned to whimpers and then to sniffles, dried her tears. His soft hands were warm and comforting as they delicately wiped away the wetness on her cheeks and with each one, she felt her heart swell with gratitude.

“Feel better?” he asked finally.

“Yes, a little,” she nodded.

He gazed at her, his amber eyes searching her green ones long and carefully. When he spoke, he was almost pleading:

“I know you didn’t want to talk last night,” he said, and Glynda looked away guiltily.

She had refused to say a word to her partner the previous night, having just stormed past him into her room, slamming it shut in her anger that was meant for James, but that she’d directed at Ozpin. Ozpin, her best friend and teammate, who she knew cared for her, more, she now knew, than James ever could. And she’d shut him out the night before. She felt ashamed of that. Ozpin seemed to sense what she was thinking, as he tilted her head up to look back at him. His face held no blame, which surprised her, just an unfathomable consideration that was centered only on her.

“But I’m really worried about you,” he continued.

He let those words hang in the air for a moment, as if wanting her to see just how deeply his worry ran.

“So, could you please tell me what happened?” he asked.

And she did. She told him everything, from Ironwood first saying that he was leaving her, to his mentioning her family as seemingly the only thing he cared about losing, to her rage at him and how she’d reacted. He didn’t interrupt her once, just listened avidly. When she was done, his mouth was hanging open lightly in shock.

“What an ass,” he breathed, as though without realizing what he was saying, and Glynda found herself laughing.

She’d never heard Ozpin curse before let alone at a fellow huntsman in training. When her, somewhat hysterical, giggles ceased, he was smiling, obviously relieved at her reaction, but his eyes were still sad as he said:

“I can’t believe anyone could be so heartless as to say that.”

“Honestly, I couldn’t believe it either.” Glynda agreed.

She leaned into Ozpin, feeling suddenly tired after all of her crying, and relaxed as Ozpin slipped his arm around her again. Ozpin shook his head, frowning bitterly.

“Ironwood is such a fool,” he looked into her eyes, “I know that this is obvious and that I don’t have to say it, but we both know that you are worth so much more than your family name. It isn’t fair for you to be treated like that weren’t the case,” he sounded almost as angry as she’d felt, which she found strangely comforting and rejoicing, “and I think you have every right to be angry about it.”

Indeed, Glynda did know that. Despite her fruitless her efforts of convincing others of that fact sometimes were, she did know that her value lay not solely within her heritage. Still, hearing Ozpin say it, as if it were a simple truth, one that he wholeheartedly believed in, made her smile so happily, so truly happily. And yet she could still feel more tears prickling to the surface. They seemed to just keep coming, no matter what emotion they accompanied.

“I do know that.” she said, inhaling deeply.

Ozpin’s eyes, which had grown hard with displeasure, softened again.

“I wish I could do something.” he said. “I hate…I hate seeing you like this, Glynda. So…”

“Sad and pathetic?” she offered. “Beaten? Miserable?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” he corrected, his voice light. “I think the word is…suffering.” when she stared at him, her looked at her earnestly. “I don’t like seeing you hurt Glynda, in any way. And I just I could something to make you…not hurt anymore.”

He sounded helpless, like he wanted to protect her from pain itself, but knowing that it was a fruitless task. Still, it sent warm rays of sunshine through Glynda’s heart. She shook her head, wiping at her eyes, then embraced him. He hesitated, obviously taken aback, then put his arms around her.

“You’ve already done plenty.” she said, which was true.

He’d come to find her, he’d listened to her and he’d let her cry on his shoulder. He’d made her feel better, almost by virtue of his very presence. Something James had never done. She slowly seemed to realize that as Ozpin tightened his hug snuggly around her, holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world, like he was afraid that he might crush her in he held her too tight but at the same time not wanting to let go. She couldn’t remember if James had ever held her that way. Probably not, she realized. Because James wasn’t at all like Ozpin.

“I’m sorry, Ozpin.” she said softly.

“For what?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“For ruining your shirt.” she murmured, seeing the wet spots her tears had made on the fabric.

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” he said, and Glynda could hear the smile in his voice, sincere and tender and amiable. “I have several more, and I can always wash this one.”

She felt herself smile too, but apologized again.

“I’m sorry.”

She felt Ozpin shaking his head.

“Don’t.” he soothed. “You have nothing to apologize for, Glynda.”

But she did. She did have something to be sorry for, and she was deeply sorry. Sorry for not seeing earlier how much happier she was with Ozpin than ever was with James. Sorry for not seeing how much he cared more about her, herself, her whole self, which he had come to know for almost four years without ever once letting things like her family cloud his view of her. She was sorry for not loving him the way he loved her and the way that he deserved to be loved in return.

“Are you okay now?” he asked, his wonderful voice breaking through her train of thought.

She glanced up at him and he pulled away enough so they could look at each other fully.

“I am.” she said.

He frowned, putting a hand to her cheek. There was some dampness there from where more recent tears had left streaks down her face.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his thumb wiping away those last faint traces.

Glynda found herself leaning into his hand, even putting hers over his.

“I’m okay, Ozpin.” she whispered. “Thanks to you.”

She smiled at him, and this time, he smiled back.


End file.
